


Two Scenes of the Magician and the Jester

by turbomun



Category: Deltarune (Video Game), Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: Implied Relationship, M/M, the hottest thing they do is play chess so don't worry
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-27
Updated: 2018-12-27
Packaged: 2019-09-28 09:42:26
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,246
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17180564
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/turbomun/pseuds/turbomun
Summary: "As the court mage, and his only companion, I was forced to lock him away..."





	Two Scenes of the Magician and the Jester

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this on a whim in like half an hour. It's edited slightly because the original version contained references to stuff that literally only one other person besides me would understand. Incidentally, that one other person is my fiancee, and this story would not exist at all if not for her uncanny ability to roleplay Jevil.

It was Jevil's time before — before he became free, back when his thoughts used to travel in rigid little angles and lines. He was lingering outside the door to the throne room while the Kings were enjoying a performance inside, for even back then he had a penchant for creeping into spots where he was not supposed to be. Of course, he didn’t do it just for the fun and the chaos then, but rather for what he thought of as “good reasons.” And on this particular day, his reasons were the best of all. 

The court magician was inside, doing all his tricky tricks for the Kings. 

 _Yummy_.

The magician juggled fire between his hands, and twirled it and twisted it and made it dance, and the lights glinted off of his button eyes. They said he was a homunculus, and that the magic giving life to his stuffing and stitches now deftly wound through him according to his will. Jevil knew not the truth of it, but what he did know was that when the magician was juggling fire, and his elaborate robe was swishing around his ankles, you never wanted to look away. 

At least, Jevil didn’t.

The Kings applauded politely while the magician took a bow. “Well done,” said one of them — the Spade King, Jevil thought — and then he said the magician’s name. It sounded like “Seem.” Jevil’s ears perked up. In all the weeks since he’d arrived here, nobody had ever addressed the magician as anything but “Magician.”

And then Jevil darted aside as the Magician left the room, looking ever so regal in his flowing robes...ever so _yummy_.

“Hail, Magician,” said Jevil with barely restrained excitement. 

The magician cast his button eyes towards Jevil and nodded. “Jester.” 

“Seem?” said Jevil. “Is that your name?”

The magician looked surprised; his ears pricked up. Then he shook his head. “It’s Seam.”

“ _Shawm_?”

“S-e-a-m. Seam.” His eyes reflected a flat curiosity. “What have you been watching me for?”

Jevil smiled. He had pointy teeth, but so did a lot of Darkners, and his teeth tended to look more goofy and endearing than threatening. “Watching you?” he asked innocently. 

“Yes. I know you have been. What do you want?”

“Nothing much,” said Jevil. He crossed his legs; since he was floating in the air, this did nothing to diminish his height. “I just want to play a game.” 

“A game?”

“A game.”

The magician – Seam – tilted his head to one side. “Do you play chess?” 

“Oh, certainly!” exclaimed Jevil, clapping his hands together. “I adore chess!”

Seam nodded. “Come then, Jester. You can play black.” 

“My name is Jevil. Not ‘jester.’” 

“Jevil, then. Come on. But don’t you dare ruin my chess set.”

Jevil uttered a giggle – _uee hee hee!_  

Invited to the magician’s private chambers, successful at last! And in the sitting-room was a chess set that was obviously Seam’s prized possession; well, it would have been _anyone’s_ prized possession, at that. An ornate, gilt reproduction in miniature of the Great Board, its carved pieces were red and black rather than black and white. Seam arranged the pieces, and Jevil floated above his chair on the black side, watching each move with beady, eager eyes.

“So you like games,” said Seam after half a dozen moves. 

Jevil shrugged, idly twirling a pawn in his fingers. “Any good jester must like games.”

“And you’ve been watching me.” 

He tittered. “You must have been watching me to notice, Magician!”

Seam’s ears flattened, and he looked away. Jevil triumphantly imagined a blush springing up beneath the thick layer of purple fur. 

“You’re an interesting fellow,” he admitted. “You came here to play the fool for the Kings. And yet you’re obviously smarter than you let on. Do you seek another position?”

“Oh no. I am quite happy being the jester.”

“Are you?” Seam obviously didn’t believe him. “Why is that? All you do is make chaos for the sake of entertaining the Kings.”

Jevil flashed a grin. “And what’s the fun of life without a little chaos?”

Seam didn’t answer, but the way that he appeared to be deeply considering this question satisfied Jevil immensely.

No one spoke again until fifteen or so minutes later, when Jevil reached out across the board and flicked over Seam’s largest piece. “Checkmate!” he cackled.

A ripple of disbelief seemed to pass across Seam’s button eyes. He scoured the board, checking and rechecking each move, searching for signs of tampering or cheating. Then, finding none, he was forced to say, “Unbelievable. No one in this castle can beat me.” 

“I can do anything,” declared Jevil. 

And this time, when Seam looked across the chess board and they locked eyes, he seemed to understand the real nature of Jevil’s interest for the first time. And they both leaned forward just a little more. 

… 

And then, all at once, it was later, much later, for after all, what is time but a construct, a prison of the mind? Jevil was free from such things.

He could see the world for what it truly was, and the Kings and Queens had come for him in pairs: Diamond, Heart, Club, and finally Spade. But his powers had also been freed, and he knocked down each in turn, and they ceased to come themselves. Instead, they sent the one person who made Jevil hesitate.

He felt, for the first time, every inch the fool that he portrayed. He _knew_ that Seam was naught but a pawn like the rest of them. He _knew_ that nothing either of them did would avert the inevitable. Yet that did not stop him from feeling hurt, and when Seam came for him, Jevil did not fight back.

“My heart is filled with a disappoint,” hissed Jevil softly. “I thought that you, you would have understood!”

“I don’t understand anything, Jevil,” said Seam. “I truly don’t.”

“Your eyes are too open. Only blinded by dark can you see the way. The dark is coming…darker, yet darker. If you lock me away, all you can do is run, run! But together, Magician, we can welcome it!”

“Stop.” Seam sounded dreadfully weary. “Please don’t make this harder than it needs to be.”

Jevil scowled. “I trusted you. You…were all of my everything.”

Seam hesitated…and then he reached out, his paw sheathed in fire, making his eyes shine the way they had long ago, in a happier time.

“And so were you. But you’re not the same everything anymore.”

With that, Jevil's eyes became darker, yet darker, just as the world that they saw approaching would. He floated down to the ground, no longer resisting, for neither the magician nor his Kings could truly change the course of fate.

"Fine, fine," he chanted in a singsong voice that he had never before used with Seam. "But from now on, Magician, a dark flower blooms in your heart. Chain me up, throw away the key, do what you will, yet I'll always be free, free. For the one you truly lock away is yourself, and all those that think like you, and someday you'll let yourself outside. It's written in the stitching on your cotton. And when you do, I'll be waiting, waiting."

And looking back on that moment from his cell, Jevil knew that it could not have gone any other way.

The only thing he didn't understand was why knowing that didn't make it hurt any less.


End file.
